Padfoot and his Pup
by Crystallion12
Summary: In the outcome of altered events at the Ministry in OotP (Order of the Phoenix), Harry is left in serious need for some hugs- and no one's better for that than his godfather, Sirius Black. [AU, Rated T for references of torture, One-Shot.]


**Padfoot And His Pup**

 **A HP One-Shot of Fluffiness and Angst.**

[Set after OotP, but in an unspecified AU where ( **Spoilers** ) Sirius didn't die.]

oOo-O-oOo

Harry Potter wasn't the surest of where he was- one moment, he swore he was at Hogwarts, cursing Umbridge for even existing- and now, now, he didn't even know...

Dark corridors surrounded him from all angles- their cramped confinement made his pulse quicken on instinct, his breath hitch, his muscles stiffen, rigid. His hand felt for the wand in its holster, and quickly grabbed onto it.

Drawing it, he raised the wand, but held it low. His swift reflexes were all he seemed to be able to rely on now.

The quiet closed in on the fifth year with little mercy. The dark walls held him unnerved.

But wait- what was that- the stinging in his head, his chest, creeping into everywhere? He gasped and fell to his knees.

It _hurt._ Tears blurred his vision, dripping onto the surface of his glasses- when had he put those on? When had he gotten here- _where was here?_ No matter that, he decided, the ferociousflames fanning in his head, pounding in his eardrums, was terrifying He gulped, tasting, shivering at the horrible sensation of blood trickling from the corners of his mouth- what?

"H… h… hel… help…" His plea came out in barely a whisper, croaky and desperate. 'Here' did comply, helping him by echoing down the hallway from the emptiness- or was that a door he saw? He couldn't be certain.

It was dark, too dark. So horribly _, horribly_ dark.

It was as if the night had been captured, locked in a chest and then unleashed without escape into one hallway- or was it _only_ one?

Maybe the whole world was plunged into this maddening, sickening darkness…

Harry whimpered. Now, he was scared. No- petrified. Petrified, like a Basilisk had- a Basilisk?! That word was too familiar- _badly_ familiar…

A short scream escaped his lips, and he whipped around to try and find this- _this_ \- _Basilisk_.

It came of no use- there were only shadows.

Only darkness.

"Harry…? God, Mate, it's four in the… Harry?"

Only darkness- pitch black with shifting reality- he wailed, the sound sharp and frightened, at the sound of a voice- a familiar voice, but was it a good thing?

"He-help!" He cried, and cried. His shout might have woken up more of these shadowy voices, he could see the outline of a small human- a young adult, or teenager like himself- and the boy was moving towards him slowly, carefully, murmuring things under his breath.

And still, _only darkness_.

But yet, the boy only kept advancing. Was he trying to calm him? But couldn't he see the darkness? Was _he_ the darkness?!

"Harry, mate, shh… Calm down… It's me, Ron… No one's going to hurt you…"

Suddenly, in the black, another door opened, this one he saw. Another small human walked out, looking a fair bit different- it was a girl, and she gasped quietly at the scene- could she see it, or had she simply figured it out? Had she understood their grave danger? The horrors of the pitch black?

"Hermione, oh, I'm so glad you're here… Quick, get a light- turn on the hallway lights, get a candle, lumos, anything! He's going to freak ou-"

 _Freak?_

Harry wasn't sure he liked that word, either. He gave a high-pitched cry of terror and turmoil- curling into a little ball on the floor.

It was only disrupted, this time, by something that shocked and both relieved him. The girl had almost frantically cried a word, and from the tip of the wand in her hand glowed a bright, but gentle and comforting blue. It lit up the space, showing the faces of the two people; as it came crashing down to Harry in a full reality check, he recognised them both, full swing.

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley- his two best friends.

He felt so dumb. And both looked… Very, very worried. He knew that look on Hermione's face, yes, he did, now. But… Why had he forgotten them for a while, then? And 'here' must be 12 Grimmauld Place- Sirius' old house.

What was that splitting pain, the terror- he'd never been scared of the dark, no, not like that…

"Harry," Hermione whispered, crouching down. Never letting the lumos spell wear off, her hand reached out to touch his own- he was shaking more. Her own trembles could be felt with even the lightest contact. She clearly wanted to do more- leap forward and embrace him tightly, whispering it'd be okay, and Ron would be there, quietly reassuring him and watching paranoid. But if anyone had just fitted that word (paranoid), it was the Boy-Who-Lived.

So why, just _why_ , did he now feel like he just _didn't_ want to live?

oOo-O-oOo

Harry couldn't fall back asleep. His friends stayed with him on the floor for a little while longer, rubbing his back, whispering, and murmuring soothingly, until finally they helped him up, leading him away- both Ron and Hermione lit their wands, which was a great relief for Harry. He was nervous with every step, and why, well, he wasn't sure.

They came to a stop at the beginning of a staircase- lights were on and dim in the room below, worried voices were being passed. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

His friends glanced at each other, Hermione biting her lip nervously.

"Alright, mate, none of us are supposed to be awake, especially you…" Ron started, and quite suddenly, whatever nervous fit the brunette next to him was having ended.

In hushed whispering, she retorted back. "And let Harry be like this? I'm pretty sure they said to get them if it happened… Come on… Careful, Harry…" She gently drew her arm around her raven-haired friend, and helped him down the stairs. Ron gingerly (no pun intended…) followed, gulping as immediately, the sound of three pairs of footsteps drew attention; always the one to hear children first, Mrs. Weasley, Ron's mother, Molly, looked up, then promptly gasped as if she'd just seen Merlin himself.

The next to look up as Alistar Moody (otherwise recognised as 'Mad-Eye Moody')- followed by Sirius, and Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks, and so on. Except perhaps Alistar, they all looked rather panicked and pitiful.

Sirius, Harry's Godfather- he would never forget that, he _couldn't_ , it was such a repulsive thought on its own he almost hurled… And was glad he didn't.

The man threw his arms around his young godson just as he was about to fall over, no longer supported by Hermione (she had ran off to fetch something) and Ron- who promptly yelped when his best friend nearly struck the ground. Harry coughed . His feet nearly gave out. He scrambled for a grip almost frantically, barely aware his feet were bare- were those tiles? It didn't matter. He could feel Sirius warm against him, the ground slippery…

"Dear lord, Harry… Harry… Calm down… Calm down, you won't fall, I'm here… I'm here… That's it… Shhh…"

Slowly, it was with a round of relieved exhales that Harry relaxed, letting Sirius support him fully. Carefully, he was picked up, and after a quick, quiet word to the group gathered, Sirius gently scooped his friend's son in his arms bridal-style. Sirius thought he may have heard a soft snort of protest, and briefly wondered how mentally aware and conscious he was… He would later see if he could find out.

Carrying Harry up the stairs, Sirius felt the weight of the situation fall harder.

Not that it hadn't slammed head-first into rock bottom already, in fact, now it was just sinking deeper and deeper towards the core of life, it seemed. Harry occasionally mumbled, restless even in his hold- Sirius realised he may have a fever. After hastily getting the boy back in his bed, he checked the temperature- a tad bit too warm for his liking, but not ranking on levels of extreme.

"Stay here, Pup," He murmured, stroking the edge of his cheek before getting up and leaving.

Molly and Arthur seemed rather immersed in their parent-like conversation, Hermione was nervously stood next to the ginger-haired Weasley boy. Then again, all of them were ginger. Sighing to himself, he grabbed a fever-reducing potion from the cupboard and made his way back up the steps.

When he walked in, his godson appeared no different than before, if not quieter. After getting the Boy-Who-Lived to down the potion (it took some slight persuasion), the Marauder finally relaxed, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sirius sighed and dragged a hand over his face.

It was a mess. Eight days had passed since the incident- since rescuing Harry from the clutches of Lord Voldemort.

Eight days had passed since finding his godson, _his_ pup, broken in the aftermath of torture.

oOo-O-oOo

Harry fell in and out of this disturbed loop throughout the following week or two- often not aware of the previous horrors not long behind him, he would often wake in the middle of the night screaming and whimpering, only to stumble out, horribly confused. Upon realising how frequent this would most likely become, the Order devised a plan so someone would be awake, and aware of his condition. Hermione and Ron stayed at Grimmauld Place, and very rarely left their best friend's side- it tore them apart at the thought of losing him again.

Both remembered the day vividly- they all did. Harry had lost his temper against Bellatrix LeStrange, whose killing curse had only barely missed Sirius.

He had set chase, only to be stabbed with a gleaming dagger, and whisked away as he screamed, screeched, and desperately tried to reach them. Sirius had been there- Harry had been stolen from him in a blink of his horrified eyes, leaving nothing but bloodstains that had splattered in his godson's wake, while the Ministry panicked.

After that, only Snape seemed to know what true evils were set upon the young teenager, chained and weak, and submitted to agony beyond that of any fifteen-year old should face in all their days.

It was a sheer _miracle_ that they had been able to save him, but, there was a slight re-assurance; Voldemort apparently had no intentions of retrieving his victim- perhaps he was grinning cruelly, expecting the Potter boy to truly be shattered and diminished- never to even dare of facing him again, let alone try and _kill_ him.

Sat by said teenager's bed, Sirius looked deeply troubled, and greatly burdened.

Understandably.

"You're not handling this well, are you, Padfoot?"

The voice made him jump slightly, until the Marauder saw who it belonged to- the werewolf and Ex-DADA Professor, Remus Lupin, also one of the old Marauders. Sighing, Sirius, or 'Padfoot', moved to gently brush a lock of raven hair from Harry's otherwise peaceful face. If not for the bandages, the hollow bones, pale complexion, and sunken eyes, he would have been considered perfectly okay. Of course, though, it was anything but.

"No," He murmured quietly. "I'm not… It's my fault, Moony- if I hadn't-"

Remus shook his head sadly. "It was Bellatrix, Sirius. She fired that curse at you, Harry reacted- honestly, I can't blame him. Granted, running after her like that was somewhere around reckless…"

"You think?" Yet again, another heavy sigh. "What did they do to him, Moony… To make him so scared… So _frail_ … He's always been so strong, always brave and… You get the idea. _What_ did they _do_? What…"

"I know how you feel… He's such a trouble magnet- in the worst way possible, and… Trouble seems to be fond of him- finding him- through every year and situation, it seems."

"But it all links back to one, doesn't it." Sirius growled at the thought of the most renown dark wizard.

Remus sighed. "Yes, Sirius. It does."

There was a prolonged silence then cemented between them- hours passed. Occasionally, Harry would mumble in his sleep, or one of the two older men would leave to have a short break. Ginny, Ron and Hermione visited, and stayed until dinner finally dragged them (quite literally, Molly was on one of her huge protective phases, most likely because of a certain dark-haired young man) away, and left a quite overprotective Sirius Black to watch over his still sleeping godson.

Anyone who dared try and pry him away earned a nasty glare, a skill only learned in Azkaban, and once, Mad-Eye Moody even got a dark warning growl.

Fred and George, the Weasley twins, took this as a rather amusing opportunity to tease the ex-Auror about vicious, godfatherly dogs, which was grumpily received- complete with narrowly missed results regarding lots and lots of hexes.

oOo-O-oOo

Harry stirred- his head was clear, but his head was throbbing. Sounds were soft, humming in his ears. He tried singling out a voice; there were multiple.

Gently, a hand touched his forehead, brushing away a lock of his hair. His forehead was cold and glistening with sweat- opening his eyes slowly, vision hazy and fuzzy, he could see Sirius. A sight that brought him great comfort and reassurance. Closing his eyes again, with a quiet sigh, he leaned his head slightly into his godfather's warm touch.

It felt nice to be loved, cared for, embraced, and held- he relished in the feeling, a rare one, as it was.

Sirius smiled weakly at his godson's tired antics. Beside him, Remus stood, leaving with Hermione and Ron; the Marauder wasn't sure why, but he acknowledged it silently with a glance.

Shifting comfortably into his godfather's protective arms, Harry came around a few moments later. He blinked slowly, his eyes occasionally shutting for a few seconds. "What happened…" Sirius was looking down at him with an expression he couldn't entirely place, even when the man slipped on his glasses for him.

"Maybe another time," He simply said, and continued his quiet caressing.

But Harry now knew, and remembered, quite vividly, what had happened. He remembered being captured, taken away by Sirius' deranged cousin- imprisoned and tortured- the only thing he couldn't say with clarity was just how long he had been in such a victimised position. Probably not that long. "It w… was scary…" He whispered brokenly. His head was now buried in Sirius' chest. "An… And t… th… they onl… only… _laughed_ …"

The sharp, trembling intake of breath he heard told Harry that Sirius hadn't expected- or at least wanted- him to remember. _Unfortunately_ , Harry thought miserably, _I don't think I'll ever forget it. How could I?_

"Harry…" Sirius trailed off. What should he say- what _could_ he say, in a situation such as this? "You're safe now… You're gonna be okay…"

"How… W… We both know that V… Voldemort… H… He's a… aft… _after me_ , S… Sirius…"

Silence followed.

"I d… don't want t… t… to lose you… I don't want y… you to get h... hurt… bec-"

"Harry-"

"It's my fault… Everyon… Everyone's gonna d… _die_ … because… because of _me_ …"

"Harry, listen to me." Sirius met the gaze that stared tearfully up at him, and he stroked the child's forehead. "None of this is your fault… None of it."

He sobbed. Loudly. Sirius felt a slight jolt of shock when Harry broke into his uncontrolled tears, clutching onto him for dear life. Holding the shaking teenager in his arms, he whispered into the top of his head, stroking the back of his hair. "I'm here… It's going to be alright, Pup… And nothing's going to change how I feel for you. I love you, Harry. More than anything in the world. And nothing's going to change that."

Finally calmed down, sniffing, Harry pressed close. "I love you more, Siri…"

"Love you most, Pup."

 **oOo-O-oOo**

 **A/N:** So, yeah, it's not the best written, the longest, or the most heart-warming. But I'm absolutely addicted to Sirius-Harry godson-godfather-hurt/comfort-angsty stuff, so anyone following me can expect a LOT of that stuff. Like, a lot. And more angst, that isn't Sirius-related….

For example, I have plans for a fic where Fawkes the Phoenix chooses to stay with Harry in a silent mourning, since ( **spoilers** ) both their companions died.

I also plan to do two more one-shots featuring 'Padfoot', in the title. One will be ( **TBC** ) 'Remembering Padfoot', where Sirius did die at the Ministry. Not sure for the other- I'm thinking maybe Harry gets a dog/wolf that he names Padfoot in honour- I do have a fluffier Sirius-Harry bonding fic, which should be released soon… It involves and honours Beauty and the Beast, and is called 'Godfatherly Cuddles'. XD

This here isn't part of the little Animagus-Harry fic I've got going, although if you seriously wanted, yeah, it could be. There's just no mention in either of his Animagus side in this, and Snape isn't the caring, mentor-like figure he is in _The Spirit of Gryffindor_. Regardless, I hoped you enjoyed this little sad One-Shot.

Personally, I feel like the series needed this- Sirius surviving, and some bad, terribly scarring torture on Harry's part. I mean, seriously, Voldemort? *Sigh* Oh well. Thanks for reading!

 **Go Gryffindor! -Crystallion12**


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